I wear a mask,
a stony easter-island face,
rigid, rough, unyielding,
opaque and brittle,
giving no hint of
thoughts, feelings or reactions.

It has been carefully sculpted
to conceal, to hide, to divert
the curious, prying eyes
of those who would try
to dig beneath the surface,
to penetrate my shell,
to find out what and who
is really inside.

There are several of us:
One is the toddler,
abandoned, lost, alone,
who left his father
in a cemetery
and still cries for Daddy.

Then the little boy,
kindergarten age,
confused and troubled by the differences
between the step-father’s body and his own,
craving a father’s touch –
but not that way.

After that, the adolescent,
bullied and beat up,
taunted and titillated,
mocked and molested,
wondering why he is
the scape-goat of the school.

Next in line – the teenager,
a fragile, tender knot of emotions,
a contradiction even to himself,
smouldering and whimpering,
trembling at the touch of
kindness turned cruel.

Later – the newlywed groom,
a storm of attraction and repulsion,
paralyzed in the conflict,
torn by self-doubt and unmet expectations,
unable to understand himself,
petrified by his past.

Last… the bewildered man,
wandering the dark labyrinth,
confused by the tear-ravaged faces,
deafened by the silent wails
of pain and loneliness,
trying to join hands with enigmas
who evade him and huddle together,
lashing out in anger,
at the one who seeks to
embrace and mend.

And all the while –
the mask never slips or cracks or changes;
no one knows the difference.
The mask has become me.

- lee

This is so great poem Lee...
You succeed in showing us your mask, I think that I've seen at least one crack there, are you sure that mask never slips ?

Pero

pero - you see the real me here. i am so glad to have a place to be totally known and unafraid. but in "real life" i don't dare let anyone see beneath it except my T and partial glimpses to my wife.
lee

Awesome. Really great job.